Atascadero High School - Santa Lucia Yearbook (Atascadero, CA)

Page 33 text:

All through this speech Pop had stood looking at the professor with a broad grin on his face and at this last remark he turned away with a muffled laugh, and motioned Shorty to come along. That night when they were grouped around the large stove in the bunk- house discussing the whole affair, Shorty looked over at the cook and asked, What made you burst out laughing when the Professor got through? I reckon he knows what he's doing, alright. Waal, drawled the grinning Pop, I guess he does, sure 'nufg the only thing is, is this-that's the exact spot where I buried my poor old mare and my dog side by side, twenty years back, but as long as it's for the good of science, I reckon l'll have to excuse the Prof. for desecratin' their poor remains. FAITH ALICE Mama BERRY, '28 He is an old man. His shoulders are stooped from the weight of a heavy pack, and the cruel heat of the desert has given his skin the appearance of brown leather. His hard life has been spent prospecting for gold in bare old rock forma- tions and roaming the sandy wastes between. He has learned the lore of a desolate land. He knows the ways of the frugal desert animals. In the plants, thriving on arid slopes, he finds nourishment for his body. In the glory of a heavenly sunset, and its daytime reflection in each tiny, vivid wildflower, he has found food for his soul. He will tell us how, in the glittering midday as he travelled over the desert, the great thirst distorted his senses so that he saw cool fountains of water in set- tings of tropical foliage. He has seen great lakes of salty minerals reflecting the glare of the sun from their snow white surfaces. He knows the awful secrets concerning disappearances and tragic deaths without number. In this old prospector's youth, there was a dream-a dream of glittering gold, of untold wealth. The lure of the desert has beckoned him on, ever on-to real- ization? NEVER, we answer. Still, in those old blue eyes there is a glowing point of light. Can it be that spark of a faith that never dies? If so-our answer is, NOT YET! SITTING FOR A PICTURE HAROLD LYMAN, '31 E One of the worst series of ordeals of a boy's life is sitting for a picture. The first ordeal is to dress up. 1 think that any normal boy who isn't out of his mind hates to dress up. The vest and coat make you feel like one of the four brothers in the fiery furnace, while the tie almost strangles you. The only time that I feel at all comfortable is when I have a bathing suit on, and then I'm not comfortable unless I am clear under water. The second ordeal is posing for the picture. First the photographer puts you in one position and then, when he is about ready to snap it, he finds that you are frowning a little too much. Then, when you are set in the right position and he is on the verge of snapping the picture, you suddenly begin to itch all over. You make a vain endeavor to rub your nose with your arm but this ruins the whole picture and you have to do it all over again. Finally, the picture is taken. The third and last ordeal is looking at the finished product. You cannot imagine how on earth you got that irritated look, while your mother explains that you just naturally don't take a good picture. But way down deep in your heart, you know that it is those plagued itches.

Page 32 text:

EQUUS CABALLUS SIVALENSIS ARDEN LICHTY, '28 It was a typical summer's day on the Bar X ranch-the sun at its highest point beating down with merciless rays on the ranch buildings, and not a breath of air stirring-an ordinary Arizona summer's day, for sure. The quiet and undisturbed peace which had settled over the ranch was quite in accord with the non-energy-raising weather, in fact, the only sign of life near the buildings was that made by the few horses kept in the corral by the barn. Finally, however, a man emerged from the bunk-house and casually strolled over to another building, which, judging from its appearance, was the mess- house. The man happened to be Shorty lVIcDougal, just an ordinary, rather lazy- looking cowboy. As he entered the door he greeted a large, elderly man in the rear busied with the task of Washing the dinner dishes. Pop Stevens, the cook, was one of those genial souls who got along with everyone, especially cowboys, since he had been one himself before he retired to this higher profession. Where're all the boys, Pop? Shorty remarked, as he sauntered over to where the cook was working. You'd think there was a funeral around here or something of the sort. They're all down the gully watchin' the Professor, the cook replied. Two days before there had arrived at the ranch a party of zoologists com- posed of Professor Elias Dingley, his assistant, and several workmen. They had stated that it was the opinion of the university scientists that the basin in which the Bar X ranch lay was the logical region for excavation in search of the skele- tons of animals which had lived some hundred thousand years ago. As Pop Ste- vens explained it, The Professor claims that the animals used to come down to the arroyo to drink and he reckons they sank in the mud and have been buried there all this time, or some such idea as that. Let's go out and see the doin's ourselves, suggested Shorty. Pop agreed and a few minutes later the two were riding along the arroyo in search of the excavating party. They did not have far to go, for in a short time they saw a large group of cowboys and ranchmen gathered down by a spring watching the singular proceedings. The professor was assisting the workmen with pick and shovel and even some of the cowboys, interested in the idea, were working in the shallow pit that had been started. For the better part of an hour they dug away in vain--loosening nothing but dirt, rocks and shale. Some of the onlookers had left in disgust and Pop and Shorty were about to go when the Professor gave an exclamation of delight. His last shovelful of dirt had uncovered a long, gray bone imbedded in the earth. At last, he shouted, our efforts have been rewarded. This is merely a part of the skeleton of some unknown beast which roamed these parts centuries ago. Within a few minutes, if all goes well, we shall uncover the complete skele- ton of this priceless animal. Sure enough, this bone proved to be only a part of the leg of the animal and finally the entire remains were unearthed and spread to the view of the on- lookers. There on the ground was the unmistakable skelton of an animal about seven feet long-distinctly showing ribs, head, and legs. The strange part of it was, though, that by the side of this set of bones there was another, much smaller. At this point the Professor adjusted his spectacles and said, This, my friends, is probably one of the most remarkable discoveries along this line ever made. The large skeleton, I judge, is a forerunner of the specie Equus Sivalensis. As to the smaller, I have yet to choose between two theories. It may be that it was a younger member of the same type or on the other hand it might have been entirely different and the two engaged in mortal combat when they were ensnared here.

Page 34 text:

BOYS, HONOR ROLL Richard Buhman. . . Football CB teamj Basketball Baseball Robert Pennington . . 9'?Football CB teaml Basketball Richard Kelly .... Football CB teamj Basketball la-roy Currier . . . Football CB team, Basketball ' Baseball Donald Stinchlield . . Football Basketball Charles Anderson . Football Hinton Howe . Football Baseball Lyle Sexton . . Football Berwyn Yeager . . Donald Thompson . . CB teamj Charles Bissel .... Raymond Kunkee . . . CB teaml Albert Blundell . . . Carl Chase ..... Dudley 'llriggs CB teaml Arthur Horner . . . Gilbert Higuera . . . Alfred lX'Iiller . . . Football Basketball Baseball Football Basketball Baseball Football Football Basketball Baseball Football Basketball Baseball Basketball Basketball 'Baseball Baseball